Currents
by kingfisherfacedthedark
Summary: Clary is struggling. A deep chill seems to be set in her body ever since she severed the link between Jace and her brother, Sebastian. Thoughts of what happened that night and the words of Sebastian haunt Clary and are changing her. New beings from a distant place and with her mind straying further from her, will Clary be able to defeat Sebastian and the demons that haunt her?
1. Chapter 1

Before

Everything had gone to plan. Everyone who could oppose was slain or enslaved. For the first time in years, Sebastian could breathe without a threat to his power. He watched silently as the last of the Rebels were marched into the room that had become his throne room. His.

The sore faces of his enemies stared up at him. Their eyes were sunken and hollow. Their goal for the lands freedom ultimately gone. It had morphed into survival. The guards cruelly pulled the chains, which dug into their wrist. Sebastian's felt like it hammered to a stop when he saw her.

"Isabelle," he crowed.

He could hear his voice echo in the room, which was flooded with both Endarkened and those that he had allowed to stay, not free of him, but free of will. They all turned to the girl.

She was painfully thin, her wrists bruised. Her hair, which Sebastian had seen in all its dark glory, was short and thin. Malnourishment plagued the whole group, her not being withheld from their small pocket of petty fighters. Sebastian stood up, his steps echoing in the room. His spine tingled as everyone in the room, save for the Rebels, stood and bowed their heads. Isabelle's eyes stared ahead, the gold-flicks glistening with anger. Her back straightened. He could she her arms strain to hold herself up, considering the weight of the shackles.

"How does it feel?" Sebastian purred, his face a mask of pure satisfaction.

He watched her face closely, looking for any sign of fear. He found nothing.

"How does what feel?" she spat out.

Sebastian delighted at the strain of her voice. It was empty almost, lacking the life that he had often heard in his time in disguise as the real Sebastian Verlac.

"To lose. To have seen everyone around you fall to my armies. To see the destruction of everything you love."  
Isabelle's face revealed nothing. She stared at him, her eyes holding a shattering defiance that even the whip marks that screamed on her back couldn't break. No wonder they'd lasted so long. Sebastian suspected that Isabelle had held everyone on her shoulders. Too bad it had been for nothing. Everyone that had followed her was behind her, chained, pained and with the bitter taste of defeat in the back of their throats.

Her lips remained shut. He stepped back and headed back up the steps to his throne. He sat down lazily and peered down at Isabelle.

"Well, it's great that you were caught now. The new silent brothers have come up with something that will certainly make you useful to me. Be glad, you'll get to live. Better than wasting away at the camps Isabelle," he said.

She turned away and looked back at the rest of her group.

"Anything you want to say?" Sebastian asked.

Isabelle turned back and leaned to one side, her hips tilted to one side.

"Now that you have everything, what will you do? No one to oppose you, no one to challenge you, and a long immortal life waits for you. And more revolts will follow. Rome fell, something unimaginable at the time. What makes you think you can keep the world beneath you?" Isabelle sneered.

Her voice seemed to revive those chained behind her, who lifted their defeated heads. Their eyes glistened now with defeat and defiance. Sebastian's lips thinned as he pressed them together. He'd thought they'd given up. He'd thought they were tired. But now he knew that if they were let go, they'd reform and go right back to chipping away at his empire, with Isabelle at the lead.

The court of bowed heads stirred, waiting for a response from their leader. Sebastian signaled and Amatis strutted forward. She grabbed Isabelle by the shoulders and slammed her to the floor. Sebastian watched in satisfaction as Amatis began to whip her. Sebastian didn't even count how many, but simply sat waiting. No sound escaped Isabelle. Just harsh breaths as each hit landed. She tried to stand, her limp hair a curtain around her face. Each time, Amatis slammed her down, her boot digging into the other girls tattered skin. Eventually, Sebastian stood up. His steps echoed in the whole room as he stepped close to Amatis.

"Your Grace?" Amatis asked.

Sweat beaded her forehead. Sebastian took the whip from her hands. Amatis bowed and backed away. With everything he had, he beat down on Isabelle, who said nothing. Her breathing was rapid and pained, as if the whip was not only tearing through her back but through her lungs. Once again, Sebastian brought the whip up and back down. Isabelle's breathed in sharply, but no noise escaped her. He stepped around her and bent down, his face close to the back of her head. He could see her clenched fists. Every vein seemed to protrude.

"You should've given up a long time ago. It was over a long time ago," he sneered into her ear.

When the whip met skin this time, she screamed. It was one full of agony that even the Endarkened could feel it in their cold hearts.


	2. Chapter 2

After

Clary sat on a bench, watching Jace and Jordan. The sat in the typical mediation pose, with their legs folded underneath them. She couldn't make out what Jordan was saying but she could tell that it wasn't good when they both suddenly stood up. Jordan pointed into the woods. Clary turned toward it and saw nothing.

"What are they doing?"

Clary started but calmed once she realized it was only Simon. Only Simon.

"They were meditating," she said.

Simon snorted.

"Jace? I feel bad for Jordan. He's got a lost cause in his hands," Simon said.

Clary rolled her eyes. They were walking over to them now. Jace sat on the bench and spread his arms over the bench.

"Mediatation doesn't work," he concluded.

Jordan frowned.

"It works, it's just that you don't seem to have a happy place that doesn't include a battle field and weapons," Jordan said.

Jace smirked and looked up at Clary. She stared at him. He looked away quickly though. Embarrassed, Clary looked at Simon. He was talking to Jordan about his band. They hadn't practiced in weeks. Before she knew it, Clary eyes drifted back to Jace.

It had been four months since Jace and Sebastian's connection was severed. It had been three months since Sebastian sent his message. It had been only two since Jace confronted her.

"He's gone," he murmered.

Clary turned away.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered.

Jace leaned foreward on the steps of her porch and rested his head in his palms.

"You keep looking at me that way. I didn't know what it was until I noticed that you always looked scared of me. Please stop Clary. I'd tell you if something was wrong," Jace rushed out.

Frustration layered his voice. Humiliation made Clary's cheeks red. She couldn't deny that she'd been looking for that glint that had covered his eyes when he'd been under Sebastian's control. Clary couldn't think of anything to say then and she couldn't think of anything to say now.

No one seemed to know what to say. Everyone skirted around the idea of Sebastian's return and no one knew what to expect. Petty conversations like the one Jordan and Simon were having were the norm. No one wanted to acknowledge the fact that Sebastian was coming. Out of sight and out of mind seemed to be the new motto for the Shadow World.

Clary was startled out of her revere when she saw two dark haired figures running toward them. Clary smiled. They walked up to them.

"How did it go?" Isabelle asked.

Alec stood next to Clary and smiled kindly toward her. He'd been a lot nicer to her since she'd gone to Magnus's house as a messenger. Everyone had gone, save for Simon.

"Awful. It doesn't work for him," Jordan said.

Isabelle shook her head and turned to Alec.

"You owe me five."

Alec nodded and looked down at his phone. It was clenched in his hand. It was practically glued to his hand since Magnus broke up with him. The details were still fuzzy to Clary as to why they'd broken up. She didn't know who to feel the worst for, since from the state of Magnus apartment when she'd gone to see him was comparable to a crack house.

"Okay, enough," Jace said," you've got to stop this Alec."  
Jace snatched Alec's cell from his hand and flipped it open. His eyes scanned the screen, a deep frown forming as he went along.

"Hey. Give it back," Alec said, reaching for it meekly.

"Nope. As your parabatai I can't let you wallow in this level of pitifulness."  
And with that, Jace took the phone, bent it all the way back. It snapped in half. Alec gasped.

"That was new, you ass," Alec stammered.

Jace handed the now broken phone back and smiled. Clary turned away when she realized she was scanning his face again. Isabelle gasped.

"Emergency. Institute ASAP," she read.

The light from her phone made her face look ghostly. She turned away, headed back. Alec followed, his eyes on his phone.

The sun had almost completely gone down. The city was beginning to light up. You could see its flame even from deep into the park. They seemed to fight against the upcoming darkness and sang a song of opposition that had grown familiar to Clary.

"Should I stay or should I go?" Simon asked.

Clary turned to him and smiled apologetically. Simon held up his hands, his lips upturning into a smile.

"It's cool. Don't worry about me. I have Jordan," Simon mumbled.

Clary hugged him. He smelled familiar yet different. It reminded her of before. But then she felt his cold aura begin to suffocate her and the glimpse of the past evaporated. Guilt crawled into her throat and laid there in the form of a lump. She swallowed and it stayed. She jerked back and looked up into Simon's brown eyes.

"I'll call you," she whispered.

Simon nodded and stepped away, breaking Clary's bubble of nostalgia. Clary almost called out to him. But in the end, she turned and headed toward the waiting Shadowhunters. She ignored Jace's look of hurt and kept walking. Exhaustion weighed down on them as they headed to the institute and the sun set.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of TMI. Enjoy :)**

Before

Each time that the wind lashed out, Isabelle felt it on her back. The cold penetrated her and her back cried. Tears of pain and anger fell from her eyes, but she made no noise. She didn't want the two men carrying her to burden themselves further.

A couple miles back, she'd fallen. She'd tried her best to get back up, but the pain that radiated through her body kept her down. Her head lolled to one side. She couldn't even do that without her back twitching in rebellion. She felt her body shift to one side and then she was back up.

"Wha–

"Shhh. I have you."

Isabelle lifted her head up and met the eyes of one of the last remaining Blackthorns.

"Julian, you don't have to carry me. I can walk on my own," she huffed, trying to step back.

But she couldn't even do that.

She didn't know how long they'd been walking since she seemed to be in a constant limbo of consciousness. But when they finally stopped, she was dropped on the ground. Even though she hadn't walked the long trek, her legs still ached. Even her eyes ached.

"Here, sit up a little," Julian urged.

Isabelle sighed and pushed herself up. Tears welled up but she blinked them away. She opened her half shut eyes fully and drank thankfully from the cup that Julian offered her. The cool water washed down the nasty feeling in the back of her throat.

"Where did you get the water?" she asked

"They gave it to us. It seems they don't want us to die. They even let us dress our wounds," Julian whispered.

He was in just as rough a shape as her. His clothes hung on him, making him look even more emaciated. His eyes seem to sink into his face and his lips were so dry that they seemed to be flaking off. Worst of all was the scar that ran across his whole face. The flesh around it is so scarred that it looked as if someone had ripped it open and done a poor job of sewing it back together.

"Whatever. They probably want healthy servants or something," she responded.

Julian looked up at the sky, his eyes glazed with sadness. It was something that bled through every rebel's eyes. She could see the others looking around anxiously. They cast looks at her every second or so. She tried to smile, but couldn't bring herself to lie, even with a simple smile of conformation. They all should know that they wouldn't be fine.

"Julian. Do you think they'll make us servants?" Isabelle asked.

Julian looked down at her, his blue-green eyes surprised at the questions.

"I don't think so. We…we might get turned, "Julian replied.

Isabelle walked along carefully, but leaned heavily into Julian. They stopped once in a while for them all to use the bathroom. But that was it. No one drank water and the cold that beat on them made it even worse.

Two days had passed. Then three. Then four.

On the fifth day, a dark blip appeared in the distance. Smoke poured from it, darkening the sky. Isabelle felt her heart drop. They were headed to a slave camp.

"A slave camp? But, there aren't supposed to be any here," Julian whispered.

Isabelle shook her head.

"I don't get it either."

The others were looking around, their nerves getting the best of them. Some started to talk. The silence that had followed them for days was gone. Everyone chattered like hens, their voices rising up in a panicked frenzy. Up until one of the silent guards whipped Anna Wineheart. She fell to the ground, her arm slashed on the side. She hissed out curses, but everyone fell silent.

"Keep walking," an Endarkened spat out.

Isabelle still couldn't get used to the dead eyes that they had. But right now, they were alive but with the wrong emotions. A dark mood fell over them all of a sudden, vibrating in the air, forming a large cloud. The cloud blew up and up, expanding like a balloon. It was so large that Isabelle felt like if she reached up, she could brush some of it away. It expanded, growing wider and wider. The daunting size of it made even the Endarkened look up at it with wonder. It seemed to devour the blue of the sky. As the dark mass grew, the sun shrunk away. They all stood watching, the fallen girl weeping silently as she held her tattered arm to herself.

And then the cloud exploded.

Crows flu in every direction, their harsh cries ringing in the air. Their wings beat in time, similar to a heartbeat. No one moved, as if they were scared to anger the murder of crows that was flying in a circle. It grew tighter and tighter. Then a single crow fell to the ground. Its small dark form fell and fell. It thudded in the middle of the party. Two Endarkened stepped forward and examined it. They chuckled and kicked it a little.

A second fell. When the two mocking Endarkened looked up, their faces paling at the appalling sight above them. The whole murder of crows that had blocked out the sun was now falling. Isabelle cried out as the birds thudded to the ground. Julian pulled her close, his body shielding her back. He said something, but she couldn't catch it over the screaming of the others and the thunderous sound of hundreds, if not thousands of birds hitting the ground.

 **Please follow and leave a review if you enjoyed :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI or any of the world that Clare has built. Enjoy :P**

After

Clary stood in front of her bag. She was going over the list of things she may have forgotten, the mental tally checking off everything she had. She paused when she got to toothbrush and ran to the bathroom. She picked it up and looked up into the large mirror above her sink. A girl stared back at her. Wild red hair and large green eyes. But her face seemed thin, her eyes sinking. She couldn't help but notice the dark smudges under her eyes. She couldn't help but notice the painfully prominent collar bones.

Clary turned away and headed back to her room. She swallowed down her already forming sob and jammed the toothbrush into the bag of toiletries she had prepared. She starred down at the bag, doing her count again.

"Clary. You alright?"

Clary turned to the door. Her mom stood there, her expression worried. Clary smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she whispered calmly.

"Well, we have to go," her mom said walking into the room.

Clary stared at her confused.

"No we leave at four. Its six in the morning," Clary huffed.

Jocelyn stopped, her face blank. Clary looked down at her bag and noticed half-heartedly that it was half full. Her heart started to hammer in her chest. It'd been full a second ago.

"Clary, it's almost four. I've been calling you down for ten minutes."

Clary's hands were shaking. Her mothers stare made her clench her fist and smile.

"Oh," she said, "I'll hurry and pack. I'll meet you downstairs."  
Jocelyn gave her a pointed look before leaving. As soon as she was gone, Clary sunk to her knees. Her breath rushed out of her in a small gasp. Her whole body tightened and she didn't know why. It'd been like this since the night of the ceremony and Sebastian...

Clary stood up shakily, shoving the memory away. She quickly stuffed her bag with clothes, not paying attention to the outfits. She didn't care. She let apathy cover her and let herself sink into an ocean of calm.

Turning back, she looked at Luke's guest room, wondering how long it would be before she saw it again. Her collage of pictures and posters made her pause. It was moving. Like it was breathing. Clary blinked and it stopped. She slammed the door so hard that a picture frame fell from its position on the wall.

As they walked out of the house, the tooth brush still sat on the sink.

* * *

Everyone stood in front of the institute. Their bags were next to each other, forming a semicircle. The sun was still up, despite it being the dead of winter and for the past four days the sun had disappeared before three. Clary stood next to her mom and Luke, who were talking to Maryse, Alec's and Isabelle's mother. She was dressed smartly in a pantsuit that made her already long legs seem longer. Jace and Alec were whispering to each other in front of the institute gates, their faces close together. When she saw Simon, she ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She pulled away before he could hug her back.

"I'm sorry you can't come," she rushed out.

Simon nodded and kissed her forehead.

"Don't worry about it. Any new news?" Simon asked.

Clary shook her head. They'd all been expecting Sebastian to return. They knew it would happen. The only problem is that they didn't know how he would strike. Now that he had, they all felt stupid. Clary's heart had sunk when they listed off the major city Institutes that were struck down by Sebastian and his forces. Those that could be Changed, were changed, and those that couldn't, were killed. The only exception was a couple of kids from the Los Angeles institute. Now an emergency meeting was being held.

"None. Simon…" she started.

He looked at her, his eyes concerned.

"I…this is all my fault," she murmured.

Simon reached for her hand, but she snatched it back. Panic straightened out her back. The walls that had been closing in on her were back, squeezing her in. They were bloodied, dark with the blood of all the Fallen, all the Changed. Then she heard it. The deep rattling voice of her brother.

" _We're the same."_

"Clary!"

She looked up at Simon's face. A forced smile ripped through her face.

"What?"

Simon stood back awkwardly.

"It's not your fault. Thanks to you, Jace is free," Simon told her.

Clary nodded. It was easier than to try and explain that it was her fault. She could have killed Sebastian. She could have ended all of it. But she hadn't. And now this mess was happening. She'd been selfish and now everyone was going to pay. She already was.

"I have to go, Simon. I love you," she whispered.

The safety bubble that Simon had once given her was tainted now. She couldn't, she wouldn't, hurt him. Not anymore.

 **Please follow and leave a review if you enjoyed :P**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of TMI. Enjoy :D**

Before

The gate was black. Just like the whole camp. She could hear the grunts of the slaves all the way from out here. The rapid rhythm of the pickaxes falling on stone was already in time with the steps they took. She still couldn't walk right, but her back wasn't so bad that she needed to much support from Julian. If it wasn't for him, she would've died on the first night. He even hunted for her and kept her fed. None of the others offered her anything. No one had expected her to live. Not out in the cold.

When they walked through the gates, a few slaves outside turned to look at them. Their eyes were empty. Truly empty. With a shock, Isabelle realized that the rebels, though full of sorrow as they were, still had a small glimmer in their gaze, a small part that shone even from the state they found themselves. Soon they'd be with these slaves, their eyes glazed, the light gone. That horrified Isabelle even more than the prospect of whatever was to come.

A child stood behind her father a few feet away. Her hair was in two, dirty braids. She watched the Shadowhunter's walk in. They were clean and looked strong. Nothing like the rest of her group. Some of the girls even had breasts. Most of the women in the camp had lost them, their bodies so thin that they looked like they'd caved in.

"What are you two just standing around for? Get to work."

The girl felt her father tug her back to their spot. She lowered her head and let the Bad Man walk by.

"Pick up the axe," her father whispered.

She nodded and did as told. She lifted it and struck down, her small body shaking with the effort.

Isabelle, by then, was already inside. She felt eyes from everywhere. Some of the people even tried to reach out and touch their Marks. But the Endarkened only sneered and they backed off. Isabelle saw thin, pointed faces everywhere, and dread settled into her core.

"Up the stairs. Go! Go! Go!"

The group lifted their shackles and began to run up the stairs. Isabelle tried her best to keep up, but without Julian, she lagged behind. One Endarkened made it even harder, since he constantly screamed at her to hurry. The walls on the stair case were cracked and moldy. Dust flu everywhere as they ran along, the metal steps clanking as their shackles smacked against them.

"In here," roared an Endarkened guard.

His face gleamed with malice. It was the most life Isabelle had seen from an Endarkened soldier.

They all crammed into a room. A group of women stood in there. They were dressed normally, with only a bit of dirt on them. They looked clean and well fed.

"Groups of ten. Five women and men in each group."

Julian pulled Isabelle towards him and the groups were formed. A lone woman stood, group-less. She was pale and held her hands, looking around. She stood in the front, staring at the groups. Everyone stood back, waiting for what came next. They always waited for what came next.

"Excuse me," one of the clean women said," but you need to get into a group."  
The lone woman looked helplessly at Isabelle. It was Anna Wineheart. Her sweat face was panicked, her long tangled look making her appear feral. Isabelle motioned for her to come over but one of the clean women stepped toward Anna, gripping her injured arm. If the woman noticed the blood and infection that oozed from it, she didn't show it.

"Hmm, the groups are even."

Anna turned to look at the woman, her mouth opening slightly.

"Shame," the clean woman said. She motioned with her hand and stepped away from Anna.

One of Endarkened stepped forward and grabbed Anna by one of her arms. He twisted her around and without missing a beat, slit her throat. He pushed her away from him and she landed on her hands and knees. As she sat there, holding her wound with a helpless hand, Isabelle watched the rays of sunlight flicker in through the only window she'd seen in the building. They danced with each other, a waltz of sorts. A woman made of sunlight danced after the steps of a man. He led her in circles. She looked up at the man, and he looked down at her. But then their figures disintegrated.

Isabelle looked outside of the tiny window. Snow was falling. And as it fell, Anna stole her last breath.

"Well, now. Let's begin," one of the women exclaimed.

The shortest of the women shooed the other away and looked at the former rebels.

"Group one, take your clothes off and follow Ms. Paulette," she said, her voice so sweet that it reminded Isabelle of a child.

The group she stood in front of looked at each other, confused. They stood there a minute before the lady cleared her throat.

"Please remove your clothes, Group one or you will be assisted," she urged.

Isabelle nodded her head slightly. Hesitatingly, they took off their clothes. Isabelle lowered her eyes as the group followed a tall thin woman, who she presumed was Ms. Paulette, out of the room.

"This is bad," Julian murmured into her ear.

Isabelle nodded, grinding her teeth. The four women that remained didn't move or say anything, but simply watched them.

"What do you think they want with us?" Isabelle huffed.

Julian opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted.

"Group two, take off your clothes and follow Ms. Evans," the short woman said.

Ms. Evans stepped forward and motioned for the group to take off their clothes. They did. When she motioned for them to follow her, they did as well.

"Sebastian said they had a new experiment or something going on," Julian said.

The Rebellion had known of Sebastian's human experiments. They'd even fought some. Horrifically disfigured people that were made into beasts of their formal selves. She'd even killed some. From what the warlocks could tell, they'd been formally Mundanes. Maybe Sebastian was finally ready to try his inhumane experiments on Shadowhunters.

"Group three, remove your clothes and follow Ms. Fernanda."

Isabelle swallowed down her nerves and stripped off her clothes. She looked back out the window. The sun rays couldn't come thru the heavy snow, but she could still make out the waltz. Except this time the woman was dead, her light gone, and the man held her up, circling over and over, his face beset with sorrow.

 **Please follow and leave a review if you enjoyed :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: TMI=Not mine. Enjoy :P**

After

Luke caught her as she and her mother fell through the portal. Looking around, Clary noticed hundreds of other Shadowhunters, all talking to each other in worried tones and different languages. The Lightwood's stood together to, whispering to each other. They chattered like birds, all of them looking around with the haste Clary had seen during the war against her father. The air felt ancient, something Clary had noticed last time she'd been to Alicante. With its own sweet aroma. But its charm was lost on Clary now. Maybe it was the buzz of the people in it or the fact Alicante held to many bad chapters in her life.

"Clary. Come on," Jocelyn said.

Clary followed after Luke and her mother, who joined in on the buzz, chattering away about something. It had been like this for months. Everyone whispering to each other, as if someone would hear them and they'd all implode. But now it was even worse. As she walked, she noticed people glance at her, their faces contorted into barely concealed snarls of distaste. It was as if they'd eaten something sour and didn't want to show it. Clary ignored them and kept walking. It was all she could do. Its not as if she could turn to them and explain that, although Sebastian was her brother, she was nothing like him. Clary considered actually going through with the childish explanation when a lady who bumped into her frowned so hard that the ends of her lips almost met with the bottom of her chin.

When they got to Amatis house, Clary noticed the yard was still clean. No unwanted plants bothered Amatis small tangle of roses and other flowers. It was as if the house hadn't changed since she was last here. It was as if the horrible situation Amatis was in now wasn't happening at all.

Luke opened the door and looked around. Clary stepped in and frowned.

The inside of the house was the complete opposite of the normal state of the outside. Things were thrown everywhere and a vase laid shattered next to a table. The general disarray made Clary's chest tighten in understanding. Amatis must've been taken here.

"I'll start cleaning. Clary, you can take the guest room and…do whatever," Jocelyn said.

Clary nodded and carried her bag up the stairs. Unlike the bottom half of the house, the second floor seemed untouched. Everything was just as she remembered it. Until it wasn't. Over a small decrative table were pictures. One of a smiling Clary. Her mother and Luke smiled in another, looking into the camera happily. And then next to that was the picture of a man that looked similar to Jace. Clary grabbed the picture frame and slammed it down, her hand shaking. She sighed, bringing her wits back to her and went into the guest room, shutting the door quietly.

She unpacked quickly. She'd packed enough for two weeks. Hopefully Alicante had at least a laundromat if they stayed any longer than that.

Clary sat down on her bed, her legs under her. Silence. She was used to the constant noise of New York. This was almost torture. She couldn't even hear Luke or her mom downstairs. She hated it. The house didn't even make settling noises. Her phone didn't buzz. Nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye, something started to glow. Curious, Clary got up. It was coming from the corner of the room. Dust coated the floor there, but the object still glowed. Clary bent down and picked it up. The glow disappeared. It was an earring. A strange jewel bejeweled it with a rune she didn't recognize etched into it. She held it up to her eye for a better look. Nothing happened.

 _Us and them._

Sebastian voice rang in her ears. Clary dropped the earring and stepped back, her hands shaking. A harsh cold violated her body, the breeze ripping into her. Her hands felt like the cold itself. She couldn't move and her eyes watered.

 _We are the same._

She could feel Sebastian's stare, his eyes apologetic and unfeeling all at once.

 _Made for each other._

She could feel his warm breath against her ear as he whispered into it, his strong arms holding her. The cold grew more and more, until she felt it start to bite her. It ripped open her shirt and burrow through her skin. Her organs, red blood cascading out of her in a waterfall. Her heart, still pumping, landed with a splat, her own blood coating her jeans. She couldn't move or breath. The cold wrapped its fingers around her throat and made its way down her throat. Her hair started to grow, wrapping itself around her. It grew so much that she was beginning to drown in it. It fought the cold, its rich color matching her blood that pooled on the floor. She tried screaming, but the cold clawed at her throat. She shut her eyes.

When she opened them, she was standing in the guest room, alone. The cold was dull now and her hair was normal. Frantically, she ran her hands over her stomach and her chest. No hole. She fell to her knees, laughing.

"I'm losing it," she whispered.

Clary looked down at the earring.

"I'm losing my mind," she whispered again.

"No you're not."

Clary looked up. No one. The room was empty. It was only her.

"Then why am I hearing you?" she responded.

"Because I am you."

Clary stood up, her hands balled into fists.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

"I'm right here."

In front of her was a mirror. Her reflection looked back at her.

"What?" Clary asked, her voice so low it came out a croak, rasping against her throat.

Her reflection smiled and walked out of the mirror frame, disappearing. Clary covered her mouth and almost screamed. But she didn't. The earring did for her.

 _Help me!_

 **Please follow and review if you enjoyed :P**


	7. Chapter 7

Before

Ms. Fernanda barely talked. She simply led them into a room a cold room. A small cloud of heat appeared each time Isabelle breathed out, the air rasping against her dry lips. A small room sat in the corner of the much bigger room. Ms. Fernanda made her way to it and sealed herself in with a door A panicked rebel, Makai, turned back to the entrance of the room. But as soon as he neared the door, it slammed shut. He turned back to them, his eyes wide.

"What are they gonna do?" he asked.

He was breathing hard, his chest heaving. His panic quickly spread among the small group. Julian pointed up.

"Look," Julian whispered.

Isabelle looked up. Small pods hung up in the air. They looked like bubbles and were all connected to each other. Something was in those pods, a tangle of limbs. Isabelle couldn't help but notice how human shaped the things were.

"What is that?" Makai whispered.

The ground suddenly shook, everyone stepped back as a small bubble pod emerged. As it slowly rose up, it grew bigger and bigger. Finally it stopped and remained still the center of the room. Isabelle turned to Julian, who had a deep frown set into his face.

"Two people step forward, please," Ms. Fernanda said.

No one moved. Everyone knew this was bad. Isabelle saw a couple people of the group square there shoulders, preparing to fight. Isabelle followed suit. A warriors death would be better than whatever these people had in mind for her. Julian grabbed her hand at the moment, lowering her balled up fist from their stance.

"You will all eventually be put into the wombs. It's much better if you just go in on your own."

Julian let go of her hand. She looked up at him, his dirty face looking down. She couldn't make out his eyes, but she could see his shoulders shake. Then he stepped forward.

"Good."

Isabelle hands started shaking. How dare he give up? They'd been through so much already. He should've been prepared to fight, like everyone else. But he simply stood in front of everyone, his head bowed, crying. They'd all lost everyone and everything. He couldn't just give up. Julian stepped toward the pod, his face covered in guilt.

"You," Ms. Fernanda said.

A light shined on Isabelle, a bright red ray. Isabelle shook her head. Ms. Fernanda visibly sighed and snapped her fingers. The doors that had slammed shut earlier opened and two Endarkened stepped inside. Isabelle turned away. She felt a scream begin its crawl through her body. It almost escaped. She tried to move quickly toward Ms. Fernanda but she couldn't. Her back wouldn't let her. The two men grabbed her and hauled her back. She screamed, and tried to hit the bastard. But she missed and within a second they threw her into the bubble.

The air in her lungs escaped, being pushed out by an invisible force. Her whole body tingled and she couldn't hear anything. She felt stuck in midair, her body frozen in place. She bumped into something and her body turned toward it. Julian. He was facing her, his eyes wide. They slowly moved toward each other, their bodies growing closer and closer. She felt like screaming but she couldn't. Her mouth wouldn't open.

When her front met Julian's, her mouth opened wide. She looked up at Julian, his mouth as opened as hers. His head bent toward hers, his face drawing close. It seemed like they were going to kiss but then they locked into place, only an inch away. He didn't move and she didn't move. His eyes opened and looked down at her. She blinked and stared up at him, still not being able to move. Up close, she could see the different colors of his eyes mingle together to make the brilliant color of blue. Short lashes brimmed them. If it wasn't for the absolute fear that glazed his eyes, she would say he looked as if he'd woken up next to her after a passionate night. But that was another world, another timeline. She was in this one, and right now, they were in a bubble that seemed to keep them alive despite the fact they weren't breathing.

Her tingling limbs had completely numbed. The only thing she had control over was her eyes. She could blink and move them. Since she was so close to Julian, she only had his eyes to peer at. They stared back at her, the blueish-green twisting around each other. They reminded her of Alec's eyes.

When Alec had gone down, Jace had gone down. That second Jace had fallen to his knees had been enough for some Endarkened to grab him and drag him away. Isabelle had tried to get him but in the middle of battle, she couldn't. A wall of bodies had created itself around her, with thousands of fallen Shadowhunters and their allies. Instead she grabbed Alec and dragged him to cover. He was dead but blood still pulsed out the wound that had done him in. She could still feel the warmth of it despite the fact her whole body was suspended in a bubble that pressed all feeling out of her. She could still feel Julian and Emma, who'd still been alive at that point of the war, pull her away from Alec. She could still see his lifeless eyes stare at the sky.

"We have to go," Emma had yelled.

As soon as the words left her mouth, an arrow struck Emma through her chest. She fell next to Alec, face down. It was Isabelle who'd dragged Julian away. If she looked closely now, she could still make out the scars. In his grief, he tried to kill himself with his own hands, clawing at the sensitive skin around his throat. Maybe it would have been better to die back then.


End file.
